


this boy is exhausted

by leah k (blinkiesays)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1789576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blinkiesays/pseuds/leah%20k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pat taps his stick against Erica's, asks, "You still seeing that douche-bro from North Dakota?"</p><p>"Yep," Erica says, with an exaggerated popping sound on the <em>p.</em></p><p>"Let's get set here, girls," the ref says. "Let's get set."</p><p>A split-second before the ref blows the whistle, Erica smiles wide and predatory, looks Pat in the eye and says, "Tazer keeps asking about you."</p><p>Pat loses the puck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this boy is exhausted

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: while all names, ages, and positions for the women mentioned in this story are based off Real Life Awesome Women's Hockey players, the characterizations are not. (It'll be a beautiful day when Julie Chu is as well documented in the international press as Jeff Carter, but today is not that day.)
> 
> Loosely set in the 2009-2010 season, though all resemblance to reality is purely accidental.

### pre-game

The first time they officially met, Pat shoved his hand out for a fist-bump, Jon went in for the handshake, and there was this confused, awkward moment, like a game of rock paper scissors when one person goes right _on_ three and the other person goes _one-two-three-shoot_.

Pat had laughed and Jon had kind of shook his head, and the weirdness had just sort of evaporated.  They'd nodded at each other like, _we've got this,_ and then did them both, fist-bump and handshake in that order.  It was really no big deal, but Pat remembers it _exactly_ , even years and years later.

"I'm Pat," he'd said. "It's Jo, right?"

"It's actually, uh, I like - Jon," Jon had said, scratching at the back of his neck and looking angry and embarrassed equally.  "Call me Jon.  Jo just sounds more-"

"Yeah," Pat had said.  "I know."

 

### Flyers vs. Chicago, in-progress

Face offs aren't Pat's like, favorite thing ever, but it's not for the reasons people _think_.  He's awesome at them, whatever, and he got over girls trying to fuck with his head a long time ago - _hey cutie, nice butt_ and _there's a men's league in Canada, maybe that's more your speed, eh?_ and _is Crosby's dick as small as they say?_ \- pretty much it doesn't bother him anymore.  And really, the shit they say about Sid is down-right _hilarious_.

What Pat _hates_ is -

"Mom says you need a haircut."

Playing the Blackhawks.

Pat glares over the hash-marks, says, "My hair looks _awesome_."

"Whatever you say, sister."

Pat taps his stick against Erica's, asks, "You still seeing that douche-bro from North Dakota?"

"Yep," Erica says, with an exaggerated popping sound on the _p._

"Let's get set here, girls," the ref says. "Let's get set."

A split-second before the ref blows the whistle, Erica smiles wide and predatory, looks Pat in the eye and says, "Tazer keeps asking about you."

Pat loses the puck.

 

### Flyers vs. Chicago, time out: Kane and Toews face off [[1]](http://espn.go.com/nhl/story/_/page/maginterviewtoewskane/chicago-blackhawks-patrick-kane-jonathan-toews-nhl-odd-couple-espn-magazine)

ESPN - The Magazine

THE POWER-PLAY partnership of Blackhawks cornerstones Erica Kane and Jonathan Toews, both 22, are the NHL's version of the Odd Couple. Toews, who became the franchise's first male captain at age 20, is the contemplative Canadian. Kane, the first American forward named Stanley Cup playoffs MVP, is the brash Buffalo native. Their chemistry clearly works, but how long can they keep it going? We turned the mic over to Kaner and Jo and let them face off.

Jonathan Toews: Who drank more beer or champagne out of the Cup - me or you?

Erica Kane: Are you trying to make me look worse or better here?

Toews: You can say me.

Kane: Well, as the captain, you had two days with the Cup.

Toews: Yeah, I logged a few more hours with it - and I took advantage of it. OK, how about this: Who did more community work or kissed more babies with the Cup? I'm trying to rebuild your image here.

Kane: That's good. I did charity events with the Cup all the time.

Toews: Which teammate would you let date your brother?

Kane: A couple of years ago I might have said you.

Toews: But not anymore?

Kane: Not anymore. There are some people you definitely would not want dating your brother - especially hockey players. I'd have to go with Megan Bozek though. She's the nicest girl in the world.

Toews: Nicest ever.

Kane: She's a really nice, sweet kid.

Toews: Do you remember - your brother and I played on the same team, the Junior Gentlemen Flyers?

Kane: Yeah. When we were all what, 12? 13?

Toews: Glory days. He just walked into the [dressing room] wearing flip-flops, put his bag down and slowly put on his gear. Then he'd just go onto the ice. I was used to being the top scorer on the team. Then he came along and started beating me in points every single game. I was like, "How does this little guy go out there and do that?"

Kane: A year or two earlier he had played your Winnipeg team. His team beat you guys by a couple of goals, but when he came back he was was like, "Who's this Toews kid?"

Toews: I always kind of hoped we'd get to play together again.

Kane: Instead you got stuck with me.  Sorry, bro.

Toews: You're alright. [Laughs.]

 

### Flyers vs. Chicago, final, L 6-0

Pat avoids eye contact with the rest of the Flyers and slinks out to wait by the entrance to the visitor's clubhouse.  He plays a few half-hearted levels of Angry Birds leaning against the rough wall of the tunnel and ignores most of the people streaming past, until one of the visiting players stops right in front of him and steps on his foot with the flat part her high-heel.

Pat shoves his phone in his pocket and looks up.

"Miss me?" Erica asks.

"Hardly," Pat says.  They're only on the schedule for two games this season, sure, but it _feels_ like they play the Hawks _all the fucking time_.

Erica pulls an unimpressed face and Pat glances past her for just a _second_ , not that he's looking for anyone _specifically_ , he just thought he heard -

"Jo's still changing," Erica says.  "He'll be out in a minute."

"I wasn't-"

"Sure you weren't."

The door to the locker room opens and closes, but it's just MacLeod and Weiland, who both give Pat weird looks.

"What do you say about me?" Pat asks, and Erica looks at him blankly.  "When Jon asks."

Erica says, "I tell him that that I'm not going to gossip like a fourteen year old boy and he should ask you himself."

"Way to propagate a damaging stereotype there, asshole."

"Seriously, tell Mom to stop sending you those articles, you sound like a douchebag."

Pat just flicks her off.

The door to the locker room bangs open, someone shouts, " _Later Tazer!_ " and Pat involuntarily stands up a little straighter, looks past Erica again.  When he looks back at her face, her eyes light up with evil, unholy glee.

"No, no, no-" Pat starts, but Erica shoulders into him, hard, sending Pat sideways and knocking the wind out of him.  How the hell does she even get _leverage_ in those shoes?

"Hey, Tazer," Erica calls out, ignoring Pat's frantic cease and desist hand gestures.

Jon doesn't look up right away from where he's fussing with his gloves, says, "Yeah Kaner, what the fuck do you - oh.  Hi Pat."

Pat waves over Erica's shoulder.

"You know my brother, right?"

"Yeah," Jon says, sarcastic.  "We've met."

"I wasn't sure if you two were on the same Sad Hockey Bros mailing lists or not."

Pat wants to jab something into his own eye, but just says, "Good to see you, man.  Erica and I were, uh.  We were just gonna."

Pat hooks his thumb over his shoulder, and Jon nods like Pat actually said something interesting or coherent. He says, "Sure.  That's cool."

"Good to see you," Pat says again, because he's been hit in the head too many times.

Jon laughs at him, starts moving like he's gonna go, but then Pat can't stop himself from adding, "That goal last week against the Canes was _killer_.  Lizana is a _beast_ , I don't know how you got that one past her."

Jon looks - pleased.  Pat's heart flips, a little, and, _shit_ , he's such a cliche.  _You know what they say about boys that play hockey_.  It's just that - Jon has a really great smile.

Pat says, "Sucks you play for the wrong team."

Jon rolls his eyes and shoves his hands in his pockets, says, "Orange washes me out.  Not everyone can pull of looking like a safety cone."

Erica looks from Jon to Pat and makes an amused noise.  She looks like she's about to say something stupid and embarrassing, so Pat elbows her in the side to shut up, but instead she leans in close, and whispers in his ear, " _Kane sisters forever_."

Pat only has a few seconds to experience the full body dread that that brings on before Erica says, loud, "Patty, I know we said we'd hang, but I'm just _fucked_.  How about we do breakfast tomorrow instead? I'm gonna go back to the hotel.  Jo will keep you company, though, right Jo?"

Jon looks a little startled, and he turns bright red for some reason, but he says, "Uh, sure."

Erica smiles huge at Jon, says, "Thanks, man.  You're the _best_."  She hugs Pat, quick and bone-crushing, before hustling off to catch up with the rest of the team.  Pat and Jon just stare at her for a minute, dumbfounded, until she disappears around a corner.

" _Christ_ ," Pat mutters, rubbing at his collarbone and the residual Erica-induced ache there.  "Sorry about that."

"Yeah," Jon says. "I mean.  Sorry.  Yeah.  Your sister is about as subtle as a brick wall."

Pat laughs, surprised by it, and Jon grins.

"You really don't have to keep me company," Pat says.  "We weren't gonna do anything - I mean, I got beer.  We were just gonna, like, hang out, play Mario Kart-"

"Braid each other's hair?"

"Fuck you," Pat says.  His face is starting to hurt from how much he's smiling.  "It's ok if you don't want to.  I mean, I understand if you're _scared_."

"Scared?"

"Of our legendary Mario Kart prowess.  I get it.  If you don't think you can hang with the Kanes-"

"Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot how fearsome the Kane sisters are at _Nintendo_."

"Tri-state champions."

"The hell you are," Jon says, shaking his head, but when Pat starts walking down the tunnel towards the parking lot, he follows.

 

###  intermission: A closer look at the Kane "sisters"

It started off as a mistake:  _Kane sisters light it up against Eden._

The poor women they'd stuck with the Buffalo regional prep school beat honestly just didn't know - his name could go either way, everyone looks more or less the same once you're in uniform, and Pat's always been small for a guy.

Pat's mom had died laughing when she saw it in the paper and they'd had the article framed, because his parents were jerks like that.

Pat had thought it was a one-off thing, but then of course, when there started to be more and more buzz about him and Erica going to the NHL, when scouts started showing up to their games in London, someone from the New York Times dug the article up again and it became like, a joke: _The Sisters Kane: Erica, Jessica, Jacqueline and... Patrick?_[[2]](http://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/07/sports/hockey/07staal.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0)

And then it became a _thing_.  Headline after headline:  _Kane "sisters" go 1-2 in NHL draft, 3 Kane "sisters" aim for Olympic team for US_[[3]](http://www.usatoday.com/story/sports/nhl/2013/08/28/3-staal-brothers-aim-for-olympic-team-for-canada/2725227/) , _Jackie Makes It Four Kane "Sisters" in the NHL._[[4]](http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/26/sports/hockey/carolinas-jared-staal-prepares-for-nhl-debut.html)   During the lockout, that shit even went _international_ :  _Nicht alleine in Biel: NHL-Star Erica Kane: Nicht ohne "meine Schwester"_[[5]](http://www.blick.ch/sport/eishockey/nla/nicht-alleine-in-biel-nhl-star-kane-nicht-ohne-mein-mami-id2092122.html).

It used to piss Pat off, but he's ok with it now.  When he thinks about it, it is _kinda_ funny.

 

### Flyers @ Pittsburgh, in-progress

End of the first period - down 2-0, which is shitty anywhere, but is _especially_ shitty in Pittsburgh - after Coach C bitches them out for their shitty net-front presence, the feeling in the locker room is tense.

" _Fuck_ Crosby," Westie hisses.  "I mean really.  _Fuck that guy_.  What was that all about?"  Pat can hear the thunk of her gloves hitting the back of her stall, the crack her helmet getting thrown against the wall - Westie does _not_ do well with anger management.  Pat doesn't bother looking up from where he's fucking around with his skates, just nods and _mmhms_ in agreement along with the rest of the team.  "Next time I see him on the ice, I am gonna fuck him up.  If I get near his ugly face again, so help me God I'm -"

"Hey," Phillie says, her voice hard and captain-y.  "Cool it."

"The fuck you want," Westie says, "You _saw_ him -"

"Cool it," Phillie says, again, louder, and there's a prolonged and tense silence for a minute or two, long enough that Pat finally looks up from his skates and realizes that everyone's staring at him.

"Shit," Westie says, "Fuck.  I'm sorry, Pat."

"What?" Pat asks, confused.  The tripping call against Westie was complete bullshit, Sid was _totally faking it_ , she hardly _touched him_ and if there's anyone they can't afford to lose on the PK it's Westie, she's a _machine_.

"I didn't mean it, like," Westie says, "I mean, I know you two are friends.  Sorry."

Some of the rookies look genuinely freaked out - they don't know Pat very well yet and he can practically _see_ one of them thinking, _Shit, is he going to cry?_   Which is.  Awesome. Just because he's a _guy_ doesn't mean he can't handle - whatever.

"It's all good," Pat says, which doesn't break the weird vibe, but people can fucking deal. "You're just talking about the game, right?  Because _no fucking way_ was that tripping."

" _I know!_ " Westie yells, throwing her hands up.  Across the room, Phillie gives him a pained, _are you sure?_ kind of look, and Pat nods.  Just 'cause Sid's his bro, doesn't mean he's not also a diving motherfucker.

 

### Flyers @ Pittsburgh, time out: The Crosby-Kane Connection

The press loves to make a bigger deal about it than it really is. They get a lot of Romeo & Juliet, Star-Crossed-Friendship shit - which is horrifying - because they actually say nice things about each other when asked. Or people assume that they're just backing each other up because there's this All Boys Together kind of attitude or whatever, which is bullshit. There's not enough Boy Power in the _world_ to ever make Sid and Claude Giroux not fucking hate each other.

There are 28 guys in the NHL and for some reason, everyone always thinks they all know each other. Beat writers are constantly bugging Pat and whoever - Sid, Jon, PK, G, Carts, Lundqvist, whichever dude is playing for the other team that night, if there is one - to do interviews together, photo shoots, YouTube videos. Once, there was some goofy spread in Maxim called, like, _The Boys of Winter,_ that he did with all the other guys in the league.  Most people assume it's like a _thing_ , Erica always calls it the Sad Hockey Bros Club, but it's not like they became friends _on purpose_.

Pretty much every single person Pat met his rookie year said to him at some point, _Oh have you talked to Sidney Crosby?_   Which was just _stupid_.

It was like having someone repeatedly try to set you up with their obnoxious friend because you both owned the same Coldplay album.  Crosby played for the _Pens_ , for fucks sake, Pat was not going to consort with the enemy just because they both had dicks.

So no, for the first few months of his NHL career, Pat had _not_ talked to Sidney Crosby.  Until his phone nearly vibrated itself off his nightstand at ass o'clock the night before a home game against Pittsburgh.

"Who the fuck is this," Pat had asked, still half-asleep and groggy as hell, "This better be an emergency."

"This is, uh, Sidney Crosby?" Sid had said, but he'd said it like it was a question, super unsure and awkward, and that was pretty much the only reason Pat hadn't immediately hung up.  Someone prank calling Pat would have at least sounded _sure_ about it.  "Is this - Pat?  Patrick Kane? Iya gave me this number."

Pat had been too tired to wonder why Iya Gavrilova had his number in the first place, just muttered _yeah_ , and Sid had launched into some long, incoherent, semi-hysterical story, the gist of which Pat understood as: _Sidney Crosby forgot his lucky jockstrap and is freaking out.  Full stop_.

"Ok," Pat'd said, sleep-addled and disoriented, "What are you calling _me_ for?"

It turned out Sid was calling for Pat's help, because _literally no one in the Penguins organization had ever had to buy a jockstrap before._   Sid was so sad and pathetic and desperate that he was turning to a member of the _Philadelphia Flyers_ \- and God help him, it was so ridiculous that Pat had to say yes.

But of course Pat didn't have an extra jock that would fit over Sid's ginormous ass and they couldn't go buy a new one just _anywhere_ because most places only carried little boys sizes.  So Pat called a lady he'd met through some charity thing that owned a tiny specialty hockey equipment place forty minutes out of town and bribed her with the promise of signed sticks and pucks to get her to open up her store at 2:00 AM for the most hated man in Philadelphia.

The best part, as far as Pat's concerned, was that when they got there, the only one she'd had in stock was Flyers orange with black racing stripes.

Pat had laughed his _ass_ off and tweeted like a million pictures of Sid's horrified face.

That kind of shit forms a lifetime _bond_.

 

### Flyers @ Pittsburgh, final, W 3-2 OT

Pat wrists in a goal with 22 seconds left of OT and afterwards gets trapped by a three-deep crush of press in a ring around his stall. Normally he'd be into it, but it's been a long night and if he hears one more well-meaning variation on the question, _Why do you think boys aren't more interested in hockey?_ he's gonna throat-punch somebody.

Despite Pat's increasingly shitty and monosyllabic answers to such fantastic questions as _Why do you think there aren't more men like you playing at an elite level?_ no one seems to be in any hurry to leave until Phillie steps in and gets them all to fuck off.

She loops back around after escorting/shoving the press out, says, "Sorry.  I should have done that earlier.  You looked like you needed rescuing."

"Yeah," Pat says. "No problem.  Thanks."

"Anything you need?"

What Pat really fucking needs is enough guys in the NHL that Pat can have an awesome game without it being a whole _thing_.

"Nah," Pat says. "All good."

Phillie nods.  "Good game tonight.  Way to not fuck it up."

Pat flicks her off and she leaves.

Pat's phone chirps with a text from Jon that reads: _Just_ _saw you on TV. Awesome goal._ and another that says: _Maybe it's because boys don't want to answer the same dumb questions all the time._

"Why are you smiling?" Westie asks, grinning from ear to ear.  "We're in Pittsburgh.  There's no smiling in Pittsburgh."

"No reason," Pat lies.

His phone chirps again, but it's just a text from Sid calling him an asshole, followed by a half-dozen of those weird Russian frowning faces Sid likes.  _That_ he shows to Westie.

 

### intermission: boys can play hockey too![[6]](http://thepinkpuck.com/2013/12/14/girls-can-play-hockey-too-stars-stripes-and-the-pursuit-of-julie-chus-olympic-dream/)

theblueline.com

"I always say that hockey found me," remarks Pat when asked how he got into the sport in the first place.  Pat initially participated in figure skating while his sister, Erica, played hockey. Pat knew very quickly that he wanted to be part of something more. Watching the girls play hockey, he knew he had to be a part of it.

Instead of persuading him to stick with the more traditionally masculine route of figure skating, Pat's parents laced him up in hockey skates and supported his decision to play.  Not only was Pat lucky enough to have the encouragement of his parents, the girls he skated with also treated him as "just another hockey player." Unfortunately, men still have many hurdles to jump when it comes to being treated as "just another athlete," but if anyone can help break down that barrier, I believe Patrick Kane could.

I asked Pat what makes watching the U.S. Men’s National Team special and why America should be watching both hockey teams this coming Olympics. He remarked that when most people watch men’s hockey, they are surprised at how technical it really is.  There is also a misconception that the game is purely physical, but men’s hockey can be mental too. Most of all, watching men’s hockey is incredible because we get to see men that simply love the game.

Just talking with Pat, anyone could hear the passion he has for the sport. Any obstacles he or his teammates ever had to face as male players only seem to strengthen their resolve to participate in a female-dominated culture.

 

### Flyers @ Chicago, in-progress

Tuominen keeps trying to start shit after the whistle, and over a TV timeout she starts hollering from the edge of the Hawks bench at Pat.  Saari starts laughing, and Pat turns to her, asks, "What's she saying?"

Saari says, "She say - you sore because Sidney Crosby fuck you.  Skate slow."

"Classy," Pat says, and he turns on the bench to shout back at Tuominen's red face, "You _wish_ you were fucking Crosby!"  Half the Hawks bench is in hearing distance, he can see Erica rolling her eyes at him and Jon behind her looking pissed.

Tuominen yells something back again in Finnish and Pat shouts, "Saari, tell her she's just jealous because I'm getting all-star dick on the regular."

Saari grins around her mouth guard, pushes Pat out of the way.  She leans forward across the boards to shout over at the Hawks bench and the Finns keep yelling back and forth at each until the time-out ends, Jon grabs Tuominen by the back of her jersey to haul her off, and Phillie snaps at Saari to cool it.

Pat's line has the first shift after the break and when Pat steals the puck out from under MacLeod, Jon checks him into the boards, hard, and then _apologizes_ for it, which is the _weirdest_.

"Fuck was _that?_ " Pat yells at his back, but Jon's already gone.

 

### Flyers @ Chicago, time-out: the _other_ Kane and Toews

Before Pat met Jon, the only boys he'd ever played with had been pretty shitty at it, or pretty unmotivated, or pretty stupid, or honestly all three at once.  Pat was always skating circles around everybody else while his teammates lumbered up and down the ice, no speed, no finesse.

Compared to just fucking around skating around with his sisters, trying to play with those guys was like trying to have a meaningful conversation with a golden retriever.  At the very best they were enthusiastic, but that didn't mean they _understood_ anything.

Pat had played Jon's team in Winnipeg and wiped the floor with them, but _Jon had kept up with Pat the whole time_.  Pat had double-checked the crappy print-out of the roster a couple times, and honestly he thought _Jo Toews_ was probably some girl that got stuck on this shitty mostly-dudes travelling team on accident.  But when they'd taken off their helmets for the post-game handshake, Pat had gotten a good look at Jon for the first time and Jon had been looking back at him, surprised.  Jon with his helmet off couldn't be mistaken for a girl, and the way he was looking at _Pat_ made Pat wonder - had he thought the same thing?

Pat had mumbled _good game_ and shaken Jon's hand and then they'd gone their separate ways, but it was easily the first time Pat could remember thinking: _There are other guys out there like me._

It was the first time Pat hadn't felt completely alone.

 

### Flyers @ Chicago, final, L 4-2

Erica talks Pat into coming out with the Hawks, even though it's a pretty spectacularly bad idea.

After the fifth or sixth or millionth time Pat's ass gets grabbed on his way to or from the bar, Erica concedes defeat and they leave, Jon in tow, to grab a twelve-pack of 3-2 and find somewhere quiet.  Pat's hotel is close and he has a single - pretty much the _only_ fucking perk of being the one dude on the _entire team_ \- so they head there.

Pat sends thanks heavenwards, not for the first time, that he doesn't have to travel with a _chaperone_ like Gretzky and Jagr did, back in the day.

Hanging out with Erica and Jon at the same time is one of those ideas that _sound_ like a great idea at the time, but turns out to be kind of shitty.  Because Erica and Jon - Kaner and Tazer - they're, well, they're kind of fucking _perfect_ together.  Which Pat knew, but he didn't really _know_.  You know?

Pat doesn't really have the same kind of _thing_ with anyone on the Flyers that Erica and Jon have.  Pat has Westie, sure, but she's more like an awesome older sister who already has her shit together and sometimes holds Pat's hair back when he pukes.  Erica and Jon are different - the way people treat them, they might as well be one unit.  They're _always_ mentioned together, always stuck doing press together, and most of the hockey world has already picked out the china pattern for their wedding.  Even _the NHL front office_ keeps shoving them at each other - Pat _still_ hasn't gotten over the awkward preppy prom-picture kind of photoshoot[[7]](http://www.nhl.com/ice/gallerylanding.htm?id=33869&iid=1005500) they did when they were rookies.

Crammed in a hotel room together, Pat feels on the outside of their clicky in-jokes and significant looks and oddly synchronized everything.  It's unsettling.  At one point, Erica gets up to grab a beer out of the kitchenette fridge and when she brings two back, Jon doesn't even look at her, just reaches up for it and she places it in his hand.

Pat knows he's being weird and quiet all night and when Erica bails around 11:30 Pat expects Jon to go with her, because that would make the most sense - they live down the _street_ from each other, apparently they both have the same couch, Jesus _Christ_ , maybe they _should_ just get married already - but instead Jon shrugs her off, says, "I'll get a cab home later, if that's cool Pat?"

There's an awkward moment after Erica leaves where the room feels too quiet, but Jon steals the remote and switches on the TV, flips around channels until he hits hockey highlights.

It's comfortable, actually, way more than Pat feared it was going to be - they make fun of the Oilers, Jon gives up a couple tips about playing the Queens, Pat puts bets on who's going to have the worst playoff hair this Spring (he's heard rumours Montreal's going to do mohawks) - until the highlight reel switches to Pens vs. Islanders and they show Sid's happy face after a breakaway goal.

"How's, uh," Jon says, and he sounds flat and strange, "How's Sidney doing."

Pat says, "I dunno.  Don't you guys know each other?  You're like, defending Canada's honor together, aren't you?  I thought you talked."

"Yeah," Jon says, but he doesn't add anything else.

On TV, Sid's celly ends with him crashing into an on-ice hug with Gavrilova and Chu. Pat says, "I think Sid finally started banging that girl he likes on his team."

Jon looks over, he seems really confused. "I thought," he says, and then when Pat glances at him, he says, "Never mind."

The show finally gets around to the Flyers-Hawks highlights and the _four fucking goals_ Erica and Jon traded back and forth, but they also show the epic nordic shitshow between Saari and Tuominen.  The camera angle makes it look like it's _about_ Pat - and he guesses it was, kind of - but the loudmouth announcer says something about men being a distraction.  The footage cuts to Jon, shirtless, taking questions in front of his stall, with a big subtitle that reads _Men Troubles_.

A reporter shoves her mike too close to Jon's face, asks, "What's your relationship like with your teammates?  You're pretty close to Erica Kane.  Does that cause conflict?"

The real Jon sitting next to Pat on the couch gets like, visibly uncomfortable, and Pat gets it, he really does.  Pat's sick of reporters asking Jon if he's fucking Pat's sister, too.

"It's not like that," the on-TV Jon says through the distortion of the speakers, "Every team I've ever played on, it's been the same - it's like having a huge family.  They're all, like, sisters.  They pick on me a lot."  Jon gives the reporter a disarming grin and the press all laughs.  "I, uh, I respect all my teammates, they all play such amazing hockey."

The TV changes over to a commercial for tampons and Jon switches it off, leaving the room a little bit darker and a lot quieter and somehow everything's awkward.  Pat looks down at his beer bottle and starts picking at the edge of the label.

"You don't, uh," Pat says, "Think of me that way, do you?"

"What?" Jon asks.  "You play amazing hockey."

This conversation, like most times Patrick has tried to talk to Jon, is not going as smoothly as Pat would like.

"I mean - we've played together.  A few times.  You don't think of me _like a sister_.  Do you?"

A strange look crosses Jon's face - first Pat thinks he looks grossed out, then angry, but then he just looks like he's thinking really hard about something.  "No," he finally says.  "I don't think of you like a sister."

"Good," Pat breathes out, and he sets his empty bottle down on the coffee table.  If they're going to have this shitty not-conversation, he should at least get another round.  He starts to ask if Jon wants another beer too, but he doesn't get to finish the question before Jon is _on_ him, Jesus, _kissing him._

 _Definitely_ not like a sister.

Pat's a little slow to react, because, wow, he really wasn't expecting that, but he gets the hang of it pretty fast.

"Fuck, Pat," Jon says, pulling back.  "I wanted to do that since fucking _Junior Flyers_."

Pat like - he kind of has trouble catching his breath for a second - because the sad, sad, truth is: _so did Pat_.  One awkward fistbump-handshake combo plus about twenty minutes give or take of ice time together and Pat had planned out their whole future: they'd be drafted on the same team, win a couple Cups, ride off into the sunset over Buffalo.  It had been _so stupid_ , but then it had almost come true.  If Pat had gone first instead of Erica - and it had been a possibility -

It takes Pat a minute to realize that Jon is waiting for him to - do something.  Say something.

"Uh," Pat says, "Yeah.  Yeah.  Me too."

Jon smiles, huge, and Pat's been jamming on the breaks around Jon for so long it takes a minute to get his brain unstuck, but when he _does_ , he just - floors it.  He climbs into Jon's lap, pushes up into another kiss and then another and another until his head is _swimming in it_ and his lips feel used and sore.  But, fuck, it's _Jon._

They end up just kind of - kissing and grabbing at each other, messy and a little bit drunk, but they're coordinated at least enough that they both get _off_ and afterwards, they just end up piled in a gross heap, still on the couch.

"Ew," Pat says, when he shifts and things are - damp.  "We should get up."

Pat really needs to remember tomorrow to tip the maids like, a hundred dollars.  Or, like, a _thousand dollars_ for having to clean up the mess.

"Sure," Jon says, but he doesn't really go anywhere.  Instead he keeps playing with Pat's hand, fingers brushing over his wrist, tapping at Pat's knuckles with his fingertips.  It's _different_ , it just feels different - it's not like they even really _know_ each other, and Jon is best friends with Pat's _sister_ , but still Pat is like - probably stupid in love with Jon Toews.  And from the dumb look on Jon's face, he has at least a little hope that it goes both ways.

Then it hits him: _Jon is best friends with Pat's sister._

"Fuck," Pat says, sudden and loud, and Jon startles.

"What?" Jon asks, and he sounds _concerned_.  Wow, he's such a - he's so _adorable_.  "Are you ok?"

Jon moves like he's going to get up, which just - no.  That is not what Pat wants _at all_.

"No, wait, this is _great,"_ Pat says, tangling his fingers up with Jon's and lifting their hands a little, together. _"I'm totally onboard with this._ It's just, uh, it's stupid."

"You're so weird," Jon says, but he tightens his other arm around Pat's back, pulling him in closer.  "Just say it."

"Uh," Pat says, "Promise me.  _You_ have to be the one that tells Erica.  She's never going to let me live this down."

Jon laughs so hard they both fall off the damn couch.

 

### post-game: Kane & Toews: are they boning?

DEADSPIN.com

Filed to: ERICA KANE, JO TOEWS, PATRICK KANE, JESSICA KANE, JACQUELINE KANE, OHMYFUCKINGGODSOMANYKANES, BONING, NHL, CHICAGO BLACKHAWKS

7/22/10 4:22pm

We all know that together Erica Kane and Jo Toews win championships, but what we _don't_ know is: are they dating?  Blackhawks fans sure seem to think so.

Email accompanying a recent photo circulating around the Chicago area: " _Look who we saw buying condoms and Jaeger near Kaner's place in NY.  Unless Tazer is really, really into Niagara Falls, this can only mean one thing.  Anyone else thinking what I'm thinking?  LOCK DOWN ANY FUTURE KANE-TOEWS PROGENY TO LONG TERM CONTRACTS RIGHT NOW._ "

Don't everyone start knitting red and black booties just yet.  A tipster tells us that Toews has been spotted with a few of the Kane "sisters" near their terrifying hockey compound in Buffalo.  Assuming Toews isn't robbing the cradle (the youngest Kane, Jackie, is only 16) - that still only narrows the field down to _three_.

Know which Kane has a little Captain in 'em? drop us a line.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "this boy is exhausted" by The Wrens.


End file.
